When I was a child
I made a catalog of sounds.
My fingernail across upholstery,
birds calling to each other in the yard.
The world spun
in oval vespers
from day to night
as wind spoke to trees in whispers.
Why was my voice someone else
when hearing it on a recording?
Why did I wake up so often
to echoing music in the morning?
Now, when I am very tired,
I hear the dead speak again.
A siren goes past in the street outside.
"I love that sound," says the ghost in my mind.
Rain and rivers help me sleep
with a black velvet rose in my dream
and the kind-voiced sweetheart I've invented there
says that dawn, or the devil, may care.
________
for What's Going On? --"Sounds."
Music: J.D.Souther Black Roses, White Rhythm & Blues
Shay, I really like making a catalog of sounds. Thinking that that might be something I'd like to do even now! I also like that wind speaks to trees. My voice STILL is that of someone else when I hear it. Hardly recognize myself, except for the words spoken. Ah, and we all need the kind-voiced sweetheart. I liked the rhymes you worked into some verses. A gem of a poem!
ReplyDelete"The world spun in oval vespers"......so incredibly lovely. I love "Now, when I am very tired, I hear the dead speak again" and "I love that sound, says the ghost in my mind." Wow. Sheer magic.
ReplyDeleteWhat a good capture of the wondering we do--did--so innocently! "My fingernail across upholstery" and the sound of my voice in a recording, wow. Yes, that last one had me wondering for years. Also, I love the rose, "black roses, white rhythm and blues . . . I hear myself."
ReplyDeleteThe "catalogue of sounds" is full of sweetness. And "the kind-voiced sweetheart I've invented there" is such a dear, little thought with a free spirit. Sooo love this.
ReplyDeleteLove - Rain and rivers make me sleep - it is amazing the worlds we create with sounds but take for granted. - This captures life - uniquely done.
ReplyDeleteYou really dig in and explore with your poems. I enjoyed hearing your sounds today.
ReplyDeleteI love your gorgeous catalogue of sound, Shay! The ‘fingernail across upholstery’ is a sound I had forgotten about, and now you’ve brought it back to me. Other lines that speak to me:
ReplyDelete‘The world spun
in oval vespers
from day to night
as wind spoke to trees in whispers.’
The ghosts of our pasts are seldom silent, especially when they are also us. Childhood becomes a foreign and enchanted land where we were not as we are now, and feel both wonder we were so, and that lingering loss that we no longer are, except in these dream moments. I love the way the last two stanzas bring everything home.
ReplyDeleteYou had me at the first line my friend, and I have to agree with Joy, the ghosts of our past are seldom silent. So many beautiful lines, but my favorite stanza is the second. I love the questions and the subtle feel of this gorgeous poem Shay!
ReplyDeleteThe second stanza is a home run, but the poem in its entirety has the feel and sound of a "black velvet rose" -- so nicely done.
ReplyDeletethe images of sound are so vivid that they linger .. nails on upholstery and the voice you create for yourself - of course most compelling is the black rose and the symphony of sound that she brings along.
ReplyDelete